


but it's alright, we'll survive(?)

by bannerless (seraf)



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Canon, Pre-Game Momota Kaito, Pre-Game Personalities (New Dangan Ronpa V3), Pre-Game Shinguji Korekiyo, as an . . .undercurrent, bottom kaito Rights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:28:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21883006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seraf/pseuds/bannerless
Summary: kaito wonders how they got here.( he knows how; it's fucking danganronpa again, for all the shit it's done it made them actually talk to each other, made him kiss kiyo that once, gave him the spine he needed, but that doesn't change the fact that he never thought he'd be lying underneath kiyo like this. )
Relationships: Momota Kaito/Shinguji Korekiyo
Comments: 8
Kudos: 132





	but it's alright, we'll survive(?)

he’s had dreams before, kaito thinks, of a faceless someone gripping his untidy sheets, of his own bloody-knuckled hands grabbing onto their hips. all a little fevered and blurry. ( sometimes because he was intentionally blurring the details. sometimes because what he could see of their face had a jawline squarer than he was supposed to want. )

he never really thought about it being this way.

but it’s his fingers wrapping in the familiar bedsheets, knuckles going white with a shuddering groan as kiyo stabs his thin fingers up into him, and he thinks _fuck, motherfucker, how did fuckin’ pretty boy here get so good with his hands,_ in the tiny part of him that remains coherent. there’s an almost pitiful sound let out of him as kiyo pauses, begins to draw his hand back, and he tries to rock his hips back, to keep him inside of him.

he passed worrying about _pride_ three steps ago. now he just wants kiyo to fucking touch him already. but it’s to no avail, as kiyo draws his hand out of him, off of him, kaito’s head dropping back against the pillows, muttering an inane string of curses as he huffs, hips bucking against the air.

‘ c’mon, babe, ‘ he says, pretending to himself that he sounds smooth and not like he’s pleading, ‘ i know you want this too, c’mon, just - just fuckin’ - ‘ and he has to swallow the words, can’t say it, can’t say _i want you inside of me,_ but he _does,_ and he doesn’t know what to do about that but spread his legs apart a little more and hope kiyo fills the space in between his thighs soon enough. his cock, untouched, leaks against his stomach.

_do you think you could come just from this?_ kiyo had said, earlier in the night, when he was first pressing one finger into kaito and kaito’s eyes already started to glaze over. kaito thinks he could. kaito thinks kiyo could make him.

‘ please, ‘ he says, finally, because all he can think of are kiyo’s thin hands on his thighs, and kiyo’s expression, half fascinated and half unreadable, watching him squirm like he is.

kiyo slides forwards, rests on top of kaito in a smooth motion, his arms flung around kaito’s shoulders underneath him, and kaito can feel how hard he is, against his thigh, kiyo slowly grinding on him as he leans up to kiss him, deep and a little messy, half teeth and all desperation. they’re going to die, after all. kaito grabs his hips, a little roughly ( it’s all he knows ) and grinds against him, kissing him back, drunk on kiyo’s pharmacy lip gloss. he thinks it could wash out the taste of blood in his mouth, and he’s determined to taste every part of kiyo’s mouth to try and find out.

‘ are you sure about this? ‘ he asks, and kaito wants to _scream_ out of impatience, kneading kiyo’s hips as it is.

‘ kiyo, i was _sure_ about this ten minutes ago. if you don’t - if you aren’t gonna - ‘ and he’s too incoherent, too impatient, too afraid of what he wants. kiyo waits, quiet and patient, and kaito’s head drops back, defeated, into the pillows. they smell of his own cheap cologne. ‘ fuck me, ‘ he says, finally, bluntly, unable to look kiyo in the eye, his cheeks burning. ‘ c’mon. ‘

‘ okay, ‘ kiyo says, and usually he has a sort of eloquence to his words ( it was part of why they chose him, after all, thought he would be perfect for some academic type ), but not now. ‘ okay. ‘ slowly, he pulls back, raises his hips a little, taking himself in hand. kaito plants his feet on the bed and raises his hips, tries to make it easy for him as possible. ‘ breathe, kaito. ‘

‘ fuck’s sake, of course i’ll brea- ‘ kaito starts, before letting out a low, choked sound as kiyo slowly guides himself into him, and g-d, he knows now why kiyo told him to breathe, because he thinks otherwise he might have forgotten how to. he lets his eyes shut, his hand jerking to his own cock and stroking it instinctively, squirming underneath kiyo, turned stupid with arousal. kiyo exhales a laugh, moving forwards slowly, and it’s far too fast and not enough all at once. kaito wants to grab his hips and hilt kiyo inside of him, kaito wants kiyo to put his clothes back on and leave, kaito wants to swap their positions and ride kiyo until his composed pretty-boy exterior comes undone, kaito wants, he wants, he wants -

fuck, he just wants kiyo.

slowly, a little jerkily, kiyo continues to push into him. his nails dig into the short hair at the back of kaito’s neck, face buried into the curve between his shoulder and throat, lips sloppy against his skin, free hand stroking kaito’s side up and down as though kaito were a frightened animal. kaito wants to treat him gentle, wants to make up for the harsh words he spit at kiyo before. wants to leave bruises in a new way, in a way kiyo can be proud of. doesn’t know what to do. so he keeps one hand stroking his own cock, eyes squeezing shut until colors pulse behind them, and the other resting flatly in the middle of kiyo’s back.

kiyo bottoms out, hips pressing tight to kaito and stilling. kaito tips his head back, feels like he could choke on his own tongue, one of his legs slinging roughly around kiyo’s sharp hipbones as though to hold him there. ‘ don’t - don’t move, ‘ he says, doesn’t know if he’s more scared of kiyo pulling out, or beginning to fuck him in earnest.

‘ alright, ‘ kiyo murmurs, and kaito can feel his lips move against the side of his throat, can feel the muscles in kiyo’s thighs tighten, strain as he holds himself still, twitching slightly. the two of them lie like that for long enough that kaito thinks he remembers how to breathe now, his hand rubbing slow circles into kiyo’s back, letting his hand fall limp to his side rather than stroking himself.

slowly, kiyo shifts himself, wrapping his arms around kaito’s shoulders, their foreheads briefly touching. ‘ i want to move, ‘ he murmurs, one hand coming up to touch the side of kaito’s face. kaito wonders if the stubble is irritating to him. wonders if he should have shaved, a little hysterically.

‘ okay, ‘ kaito says, quiet and a little jerky.

kiyo doesn’t move. thin fingers stroke over kaito’s thigh. ‘ can i move? ‘ he asks, a moment later.

‘ okay, ‘ kaito repeats, with an exhale, head rolling back. kiyo’s hand moves, finds his at his side where he had dropped it, and laces their fingers together as he draws his hips back, slowly, leaving kaito agonizingly empty for a moment. just a moment, and then he pushes forwards with his hips, a jerky slow thing that feels too slow and too fast all at once. kaito decides on too slow, resting a hand on kiyo’s hips, as though trying to push him forwards. ‘ come on, ‘ he says, rolls his hand up the plane of kiyo’s back to grip in his hair. ‘ come on, kiyo. you can - you can _really_ move, can’t you? ‘ his hand tangles a little harder, pulls a little bit.

kiyo laughs, a little strangled. ‘ easy for you to say, ‘ he murmurs, presses kisses to the side of kaito’s throat, but drags his hips back and thrusts into him again, gasping as he does.

‘ fuck, ‘ kaito says, lets his head crash back against the bed as kiyo rolls into him, mouth falling open, nails finding their hold in kiyo’s back as the other grips his hand tight. ‘ fuck, baby, sweetheart, _kiyo -_ ‘

‘ you’re such a sap like this, ‘ kiyo says, a breathless wonder in his voice, leaning down to kiss him.

kaito wonders how they ended up like this. it all comes back to fucking - danganronpa again, doesn’t it? this would never have happened, if they weren’t about to die. he would never have loved kiyo, if it weren’t for that fucking show. would never have kissed him, would never have held his hand. kiyo thrusts into him again, and kaito lets his head roll back, the thoughts of danganronpa and fate rolling away with it. ‘ fuck, kiyo. you bring it out in me. ‘

kiyo smiles, his lip gloss a smear across his lower lip, and his hand snakes between them. briefly, his fingers trace over where the two of them connect, where kaito’s rim stretches around him, slowly thrusting in as he does, before moving his hand up to kaito’s neglected cock, stroking him slowly. kaito writhes beneath him, knuckles going white around kiyo’s hands where their fingers still tangle together, hard enough that kiyo inhales, a little pained. ‘ sorry, ‘ kaito pants, squeezes his eyes shut and tries to loosen his grip.

‘ it’s fine, ‘ kiyo murmurs, squeezing his hand in an attempt at reassurance, thumb brushing over his knuckles. after a moment, he continues to stroke kaito. it’s uneven, a little nervous, a little inexperienced, and kiyo’s freezing hands certainly didn’t help matters when they were wrapped around his cock like they were now. but kaito bucks up into it all the same, jerky little motions. the recoil sends him rolling back against kiyo’s cock inside of him, kiyo shuddering at kaito’s movements.

‘ hold on, ‘ he murmurs, and his hand slips out of kaito’s, off of his cock ( kaito hissing a series of curse words for that under his breath, arousal burning through him ) and onto both of his hips. kiyo wets his lips, looking almost - nervous, before pulling his hips back and thrusting into him, harder than before. kaito’s hands fly up, gripping into kiyo’s hair, tangling around it, silken and long as it is, letting it wrap around his knuckles. the muscles in his thighs drawing tight around kiyo’s hips.

kiyo shudders, his eyes squeezing tight, and drives into him again, a choked little sound coming from him, forehead dropping to kaito’s sternum as he holds tight to his hips and thrusts into him, faster now. kaito isn’t even aware of what he’s saying anymore, just that his vision is half blurred with tears and kiyo is going faster now, so deep inside of him that he doesn’t remember where kiyo ends and he begins anymore, and he’s sobbing out an incoherent mess of curse words and kiyo’s name and _faster fuck g-d kiyo come on more more -_ and it’s wanton and embarrassing of him but he can’t care, he can’t, not about anything but the boy he loves fucking him.

he’s coming, suddenly and without warning, vision whiting out, his back arching and yanking on kiyo’s hair so hard that a few long hairs are pulled out, wrapped around his fingers, so hard he paints both of their chests white, crashing inside of him like a world-ending earthquake. kiyo cries out at kaito ripping out his hair, and pulls out of him, thin hands shaking so much he can barely finish, taking himself in hand sloppily and coming over kaito’s chest, his face.

kaito licks the taste of him off of his lower lip, and a part of him is almost disappointed kiyo hadn’t kept going. unsafe, sure, but they’re about to fuckin’ die, aren’t they? slowly, he lets his head tip back, remembering how to breathe, arms slumping to the bed. kiyo crawls around, and kaito wordlessly lifts one arm for him to cuddle up against his side, kiyo looking equally as exhausted.

but content.

‘ never thought i’d enjoy, ‘ kaito coughs slightly, face reddening a little. ‘ uh. y’know, takin’ it. like that. ‘

kiyo smiles, a little tiredly, presses a kiss to the side of kaito’s mouth. ‘ and did you? ‘

it’s the hardest he’s ever come.

he shrugs, deliberately nonchalant, but he’s a terrible actor. ‘ eh. it was okay. ‘ kiyo snorts softly through his nose, and kaito relents. ‘ alright, it was fuckin’ good. i want you to fuck me again sometime. is that what you’re lookin’ for? ‘

‘ perhaps, ‘ kiyo says, voice a little teasing, a little sing-song note to his tone, but he slips an arm around kaito’s waist and kisses his cheek. ‘ i love you, you know. ‘

it still feels dangerous to say. to hear, from him. but he thinks about how much time they have left, breaks that down into how many chances he might still have to say it. it makes the choice laughably easy. ‘ love you too, kiyo. ‘

**Author's Note:**

> honks my little clown nose in greeting to the three people who might actually read this


End file.
